Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from United States and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Suicide to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Swans. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Doors,
Sex Pistols,
Clear Light,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bizarre Inc.,
Barbara Tucker,
Rufus Thomas,
The Monks,
Depeche Mode,
Altered Images,
Unwound,
Aaron Thompson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Negative Approach,
Arthur Verocai,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Fugazi,
The Happenings,
Man Parrish,
Harry Pussy,
The Fire Engines,
Lucky Dragons,
Marvin Gaye,
Sixth Finger,
Hardrive,
Ralphi Rosario,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Au Pairs,
Icehouse,
Derrick May,
Urselle,
Nik Kershaw,
Drive Like Jehu,
Amazonics,
The Busters,
KRS-One,
Groovy Waters,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Standells,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Malaria!,
Anthony Braxton,
Joe Smooth,
R.M.O.,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pierre Henry,
Kerrie Biddell,
Toni Rubio,
The Five Americans,
Robert Wyatt,
Gang Gang Dance,
Saccharine Trust,
Byron Stingily,
The Stooges,
Shoche,
Interpol,
Reagan Youth,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Trumans Water,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.